Tribute to a Delta Squad Member
by Kristanci
Summary: Contains major spoiler for Gears 2. After the Riftworm incident, Marcus reflects on his impressions of a Delta Squad Member. Contains your average amount of Gears swearing.


I only own the words used here and the order that they're in.-Kris

Right after the transmission to control ended, Marcus Fenix picked himself up from the cold barren ground. He barely noted the bloody outline his body made beneath him. The only thing his senses registered was the horrible smell in the area, and that his body was wracked with pain. The blood of the Riftworm began dripping from the tip of his Lancer, from the various edges of his armor and from his hair. "Disgusting," he spat.

"That doesn't even begin to cover it," Dom groaned. He was on his back, attempting to enjoy the few minutes of rest they had. Baird on the other hand, looked pissed as all hell and continued kicking at the Riftworm's corpse, hardly making a dent in the rough armor like skin.

"Son." _Kick_. "Of." _Kick._ "A bitch!" Baird growled, striking at the incision they made for their escape. He finally slipped on the massive pool of blood that kept pouring from the gaping wound and landed flat on his back. Baird just looked up at the sky, breathing heavily. "Nastiest thing that's ever happened to me…" he gasped. He and the rest of them were drenched in the Riftworm's blood and covered in pieces of its insides. "I don't even want to know what's on my face right now."

Dom walked over to him and helped him to his feet, almost slipping himself. "You're telling me. I remember dissecting a worm in class back in the day… earthworms have five hearts or something crazy like that."

"Don't you even fucking kid like that," Baird snapped and started to walk off, but quickly turned and fired a couple rounds into the Riftworm's body. He let out an aggravated cry.

Cole gave him a rough shove. "You wanna give away our position?"

Baird threw up his hands in exasperation. "We just took the ride of a century inside, fucking _inside, _this thing that's the size of a tornado and it comes busting out of the ground, spitting blood and shit everywhere yelling for its mommy and you're worried about a couple of rounds?" He didn't wait for anyone to answer; he just walked off to the nearest pond, and began shedding off pieces of his armor. "I smell worse than a rotted diaper that's been inside a cow for four days!"

Marcus sighed, still not over everything he saw in the last few hours. It took all the control he had and then some not to vomit when they were inside the worm. He could now honestly say that Delta squad experienced something that no other Gear squad did. "Dom, you and Baird wash up, Cole and I will keep a look out. You got five minutes."

Dom nodded and discarded his Lancer, but kept it close, within arm's reach. He joined Baird, washing his face and neck first.

Marcus looked over to the Riftworm, a sight that would have to be seen to be believed. All the things he saw in the Riftworm will probably stay with him for a while. The damn thing had little mini tickers or something like them inside of it, just crawling out of its skin. He took a step forward and heard metal pieces clanking against his armor. He glanced down at the COG tags he wore. One pair was his, and the other belonged to Benjamin Carmine. 'What a way to go,' he thought, still envisioning Carmine's torso being ripped apart. He shook his head, wishing that the kid was still alive.

"Those Carmine's?" he heard Dom ask him.

"Yeah," Marcus answered. He couldn't really say anything else.

"Kid, went out like a soldier, man," Cole said, keeping his eyes on the horizon.

Baird emerged from the pond's surface, running his hands through his hair. "I gotta admit, I didn't like the rook at first," he said. "All that crap about 'yes, sir' this and 'yes, sir' that, always trying to prove himself… but he had balls. Gotta give him that," he finished with admiration.

Marcus remembered the first time he saw Carmine, he looked like the runt out of a litter of hamsters. He didn't even think Gears came that small. He personally thought Hoffman was going out of his way to give Delta a hard time. Hell, he left the kid behind a couple times just because he didn't want to deal with him. It was bad enough that Carmine had taken a liking to the frag grenades and went "gaga" over them when Marcus had blown up a Wretch with it. Since then, Carmine had obsessively kept at least six with him at all times.

In the beginning, it was Delta Squad and Carmine, but after a couple missions, the lanky kid proved he was part of the team. He had proven his worth underground, holding off a Locust raid on his own until reinforcements came for him. Carmine was nervous as hell; Marcus saw his hand hands shaking muttering "they're dead" over and over again. Carmine saw the uglier side of war that time, but he never wimped out. He was stunned that everyone who made the drop with him had died, but he kept his shit together for the most part.

It was probably the first time Carmine truly felt his life was in danger, and it was moments like those that tested a man. He didn't pass with flying colors, but he made it, and that earned a bit of respect from Marcus. After a while, he didn't have to check over his shoulder half the time to see if the rookie pissed himself. In fact, he found Carmine checking on all of them during every fight. He went out of his way to make sure they were covered when any of them had to reload or had to deal with a weapon's jam. Carmine was the motherly type of soldier, making sure the rest of the team was protected and secure. Marcus realized how strange Delta really was compared to other squads he had been in.

Dom was the level headed one; he didn't panic or let the adrenaline get to him. He was reliable and got the job done. Baird was the smart ass, turning everything bad that happened to them into a bitchfest in a heartbeat's notice. But he had his uses; if Marcus needed a bomb or something repaired, Bair was the one to go to. And Cole was the loud one that tuned out all of Baird's bitching. The Cole Train's enthusiasm sometimes seemed overkill, but that's the type of attitude they needed to get rid of the Locusts infecting their planet.

Carmine was the "rook type." Thrown into a new squad, physically smaller than the men on his team, with a squad leader that had quite a reputation. How does a man amount to that? Marcus could never know what was going on in Carmine's head, but whatever he was thought, it got him through all the "new kid" bullshit they were throwing at him. If he had lived through everything, Marcus would have given him a medal or something.

"You're turn, man," Dom said, locking his armor back into place. He and Baird took point, and waited while Marcus and Cole stripped off their armor, threw down their Lancers, and jumped into the pond. Marcus stayed underwater for a minute or two, enjoying the feel of being clean. Well, as clean as a soldier could be these days. He saw the blood mix with the water, spiraling and eventually turning the water a light pink.

The COG tags floated up, coming into his line of sight. He wondered many times when his own metal tags would be ripped from his dead throat. But so far, fate decided to let him live on. At some point, if he made it out alive, he would have to deliver Carmine's.

He kicked up, allowing air into his lungs again. Climbing up the muddy bank, he threw his armor back on and picked up his Lancer. Cole wasn't too far behind him. He aimed his Lancer up into the dull grey sky. "What do you say, Delta?"

"Yeah, sounds good," Dom said, taking Marcus' right side and pulled up his Lancer.

"That's how we do it, baby," Cole joined in.

"Ah, why the hell not? Guy deserves it," Baird picked up his Lancer, standing next to Cole.

For a few seconds, the sky was lit with the sparks of gunfire in memory of a fallen member of Delta Squad. A comfortable silence followed after. "Good shooting, kid," Marcus whispered. Then he and Delta made their way to shelter, awaiting their new orders from control.


End file.
